


Magnets

by TheIceQueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abduction, Aftermath of Torture, Amputation, Angry Dean Winchester, Asphyxiation, BAMF Dean Winchester, Blood, Blood and Gore, Body Modification, Brotherly Love, Caretaking, Chains, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Pain, Protective Dean Winchester, Psychological Torture, Recovery, Restraints, Sacrifice, Scared Dean Winchester, Scared Sam Winchester, Sensory Deprivation, Torture, Trapped, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-03 18:49:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21184268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: Sam is taken captive and they don't know why or how. Staying alive isn't easy, but getting him back isn't either.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:  
Chapter 1: Whumptober 2019 - #no.18 – Muffled scream  
Chapter 2: Whumptober 2019 - #no.19 – Asphyxiation  
Chapter 3: Whumptober 2019 - #no.22 – Hallucination  
Chapter 4: Whumptober 2019 - #no.26 – Abandoned  
Chapter 5: Whumptober 2019 - #no.27 – Ransom  
Chapter 6: Whumptober 2019 - #altno.8 – Stay quiet  
Chapter 7: Whumptober 2019 - #altno.14 – Touch starved

Dean thought it might have been a dream. But his half spoken name in Sam’s voice had him sit up in bed and listen. Maybe Sam had been dreaming.

The next sound pulled Dean from the bed and running towards Sam’s room, with his gun in hand, he heard more things breaking. Before turning the last corner Sam’s angry voice was cut off again and then there was silence.

“Sam!”

Sam’s room was empty. Messed up and more things broken than whole, but there was no sign of anyone, but a smoke slowly disintegrating in the air.

Standing in the middle of the room, Dean felt it suddenly spinning. The thought that something able to pass the warding in the bunker had Sam, left a hole in his chest and stomach.


	2. Chapter 2

The room wasn’t cold. Sam would have expected it to be cold. Darkness seemed to be cold every time.

The squeaking noise filling the room had to be what woke him up. If it even was a room. He couldn’t see anything but black. Even his own arms were lost in darkness as they were lifted over his head. He tried to roll to his side, but his hands were locked together and slowly but surely they were pulled towards the squeaking over his head.

Stumbling to his feet, Sam tried to take weight of his wrists but he barely got up before his feet left the floor. He growled as the trap bored into the skin on his wrists and his shoulders were stretched under his own weight.

The sound stopped and he stopped moving. Desperately, he kicked his legs to try and reach the floor, to reach something. Maybe he wasn’t far from a wall or some kind of furniture. Nothing was close enough.

“Dean?!”

He tried turning but he only ended up swaying a little. Still he was sure there was only darkness behind him too.

“Hey! Anyone?!”

The sound of his yells, seemed to disappear before they had left his mouth; there was no echo. The room had to be sound proof or at least isolated.

Time was a difficult aspect in dark and silence but Sam was sure he’d been there for hours before he lost sensations in his fingers. The only part of him touching something else was losing that sense and it terrified him that soon he would be without any contact to the world around him.

Eventually all he felt was his arms and shoulders shaking from the task of holding his chest open for air. The broad of his back ached and he couldn’t help his legs from tightening too. For a second he tried relaxing, but with his arms over his head, his shoulders cut off his air supply and he quickly tensed up again.

If it had been hours or days before he couldn’t fight anymore, he didn’t know. Dean could be looking for him or he could be in the exact same situation. It didn’t matter anymore; Sam’s arms loosened and the air stopped moving. His eyes saw small lights flickering and his head spun around and he panickily tensed to heave in a breath more, but the next time he had no strength to open up for the air to get in.


	3. Chapter 3

One small spot of light in the corner of Sam’s eye stayed. He breathed deeply but quietly to listening for the footsteps he was sure was getting closer. With all his newfound energy, he focused on the small light. The sound of metal rattling broke the silence and the small yellow light blinked and then moved to the side, letting a big line of white light grow wider as the door in front of him was opening.

“D…” Sam heaved in air and blinked against the bright light, where he was sure he could make out a figure of a man. “Dean?”

The man grew clearer, but remained a dark figure. He shook his head at Sam and the light shone threw the face in a wide smile that grew wider. It grew bigger than the head, bigger than the door, all around Sam till all he saw was white blinding light. With a gasp, he was pretty sure was his, the light disappeared and the room was even darker than before.


	4. Chapter 4

Whoever, whatever, had taken him wanted to keep him alive, at least a little longer. The sound and shaking from the winch over his head had pulled him back to the grim reality, but had also granted him the smallest contact between his toes and the floor. Enough that he could take some of the weight of his arms without suffocating.

They could keep him here for days, without having to even enter the room. What if Dean was taken too? They wouldn’t be able to hear each other. Neither of them could do anything about it anyway. The only thing Sam could do was to prepare to fight when someone came in. Prepare for anything. Every monster, every motive they had ever heard about. And just hope that it wasn’t the end goal to abandon him here.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean hadn’t eaten anything but a granola bar, Sam had left in the glove compartment. He’d been on the road, reading, contacting everyone they’d ever talked to and hammering his fist into the wheel, for four days.

Now his foot was heavier on the pedal than it had been since Sam had disappeared. He knew where he was going. Rowena had tracked down a spell that could go through the warding and bring people in and out with it.

People. Dean should have known. Men of letters. Dean could have kicked himself if he wasn’t in such a hurry. Rowena had spoken to Crowley and he’d heard about someone trying to gather ingredients for a spell. They wasn’t sure what they needed, but the location and the timing fit.

* * *

“I want to see him!” Dean hammered the mirror. The man talking to him had to be behind it.

“It doesn’t work like that, Mr. Winchester. You pay first.”

Dean looked at the hole in the wall and the tool hanging on a hook next to it. He swallowed deep and breathed slowly not to gag. “You’re insane, how do I even know you won’t just kill me _and_ Sam?!”

“The contributor has to be alive and free. Besides you haven’t seen any of us; we have no need to kill you.”

“Contributor?!” Dean huffed. “More like donor!”

“Whatever you want to call it. It’s all the same name for _your choice_, and it has to be your choice. Just give it up and you’ll have your brother back, unharmed.”

Dean stepped closer. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He was sure he could hear it too. It was insane to even consider.

“Alright!” He grabbed the tool with more anger than determination. “Show him to me and I’ll do it!”

If it hadn’t been for the obvious arguing with a hand over the microphone, Dean would have screamed at the long pause in conversation. Then a small screen, he hadn’t noticed, turned on and in the dark room showed, Sam was hanging from his wrists. He looked half unconscious, but still fighting to stand on his toes.

Dean’s whole body shook from muscles tightened in anger.

“You said_ unharmed_!”

“I did. We haven’t laid a finger on him. We haven’t even been in the room.”

Dean wondered if torture and beatings would have been better than hanging alone in darkness for four days.

“As you can see; he’s tired. You should pay and get him out.”

Dean hammered his fist into the wall and rested his head against his forearm. He’d already made his choice. He was going to kill every person in this building if he got the chance, but right now the only way forward was to pay up.

He looked down at his right hand and the pruning shears shaking in its tight grip. He tore off his one sleeve and curled it up in his mouth. It would have to do as both protection for tongue and teeth and for bandage after. Then he slowly turned and leaned his back against the wall. Forcing himself to breathe slowly and controlled through his nose he opened the sharp blades and placed his left ring finger on the cold metal.

“Okay?” He managed to force the word out around the fabric in his mouth.

“Closer to the hand.” The voice had felt mechanical and cold, but now it clearly belonged to someone enjoying this.

Dean heaved in fast and pushed the shears as close to the knuckles as he could.

“Great. Now get on with it.”

He’d gotten confirmation that it was the place to cut, so he didn’t need to see that it would be done right. These guys wanted that piece of flesh. Dena took a deep breath and as he knocked his head back against the wall with eyes locked at Sam on the screen, he closed the shears hard.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam’s whole body shook by the first sound louder than his own breath for days. It was short, but sounded again right away, louder. It was skull crushingly loud and Sam tried desperately to press his ears into his upper arms, but when he tripped off the tip of his toes the third time he realized that he didn’t hate it. His head was pounding every time the room filled with sound, but there was something about it that was making his heart beat a little more steady.

“…ou hear me?! Sammy!”

Dean. Sam shook his head as much as he could. He needed to make it stop. Half passed out from lack of air and half from fatigue, he’d seen Dean come through a door so many tiles by now and he couldn’t do it again.

“Sam!”

This was different though. It was closer. The sound wasn’t only comforting; it hadn’t hurt his head and body like this before. It hadn’t been this real.

Sam’s feet touched on the floor completely before he heard the winch through Dean’s voice. His knees ached as they bent and Sam growled as he landed on them. The burn spreading in the tight space in his shoulders when his hands was lowered had him scream loudly and to escape the pain of moving his hands down in front of him he leaned to the side and followed the movement all the way to the floor.

“Sam?! Can you hear me?!”

Still gasping for air, Sam managed to make something of a nod.

“Good. Good, Sam. Now listen. Can you sit?”

Sam heaved in air and tested out moving his arms down, and the darkness spun around him. He gasped, but quickly locked his jaw and held his breath as he pulled his hands fast to his stomach. The scream was broken by coughs and gags. His throat was raw after not even passing air right for a long time.

“…ammy?!”

Without moving his arms, Sam lifted his hands a little to signal that he was still there. Why wasn’t Dean in here? This could be some kind of torture, a game they were playing with him. It was Dean’s voice. Even with all the technology in the world, it wasn’t computer-generated, Sam was sure of it. He even doubted that a shapeshifter could fake the panic and concern in it. But he couldn’t be sure that this was right. What if they had Dean captive too?

“Sam!”

Sam jolted and came back to the task at hand. It didn’t matter if it was real or not. He had to try, just in case.

“Sam, sit up! I can’t get in there.”

It took a long time for Sam to sit up and even longer for him to stand, but in the end he was standing with his back to the corner and his hands hanging from the rope inches from his stomach.

“Good job! Sam, listen…”

Panting with air and not sure if his eyes were open or closed in the darkness, Sam leaned his head back against the wall and nodded slightly.

“Okay. The rope is lose. Pull it out and find the door.”

For a second Sam wasn’t sure what Dean was talking about. The door had only been a thing of his imagination. He wasn’t sure how long ago he’d come to terms with there not being a real door in the room.

The rope came off when he pulled it hard enough, but there was no way he was getting it off his hands without tools.

“De…” Sam coughed and the sound breaking his head from within pulled him to his knees.

“Find the door Sam. I’ve unlocked it from here… I’m not in the same building as you. You need to get out.”

Sam pushed himself up against the wall and got on his feet.

\---

The light tore his brain apart and he crumpled to his knees and hands only half out of the door. What he could only think was engine sounds from a big road, shook his body so he couldn’t breathe right. Even the cold air on his skin was too much. Shocked that he’d forgotten that temperature was even a thing, he pressed his head on his forearms on the ground.

Trying to get control over his trembling body, Sam didn’t hear an engine closer than the others before something touched his shoulder. He recoiled and tried to look up, but gave up with the neck pain and the burning light.

“Sam…” It was only a whisper but it was still too loud. “Sammy?”

A hand touched Sam’s and, compared to the cold air he was just learning to handle, the heat from it burned his skin so he pulled back quickly.

“We need to get out of here.” Dean’s whisper cut through his skull, but it was Dean and he knew he should appreciate him being there. He _did_. He just didn’t like him talking. “Sammy. Can you get in the car by yourself?”

Sam nodded without thinking it over. He didn’t want help. He wanted to control everything alone, even if it meant that it would take longer. That it could endanger both of them, didn’t even cross his mind.

A car door opened and Sam directed his attention towards the sound. He could hear it wasn’t far, if he was closer the door might had hit him, but Sam refused to open his eyes and making it there took forever.

* * *

The backseat of the Impala was hard against his t-shirt and jeans. Pressing the fabric into his skin. Sam had tried to bury his head in his arms, but the shaking of the car was still there and his arms and shoulders hurt from the effort. So eventually he settled with enduring the roaring sounds of the engine and the tires rolling beneath him.

“Sam…?”

Sam’s was still shaking when the car stopped and until Dean spoke he hadn’t heard the engine shut down.

“Sammy. Let me help you.” Dean’s voice was close and Sam recoiled under the loud sound. “Sorry…” He whispered. “I haven’t turned on the light. Let me help you out.”

Sam swallowed and slowly twisted his sore neck to look up at Dean. The dim emergency-exit light in the bunker’s garage only burned his eyes for a few seconds and with calm breaths he eventually saw Dean looking into the car through the open door by his feet.

“Sam…?”

Sam locked his jaw and blinked slowly. He moved his hands slowly and just a little to lift a finger. It didn’t make nowhere near his mouth before Dean took his hands. Only touching the rope.

“Okay…” His whisper was almost unnoticeable and Sam breathed a bit easier.

Dean pulled his hands a little, mostly as a gesture to start moving.

“You set the pace.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Sam?” Dean knocked on Sam’s door. Louder than the last three times. “It’s been five days. You need to get out of there.”

“I’m fine. Dean… I…”

Dean sighed and leaned his forehead against the door. Sam had started talking the same night they came back, eating and drinking too. He’d bandaged his own wrists, and the bandages he’d shown Dean after changing them each day, looked fine. He’d even turned on the light the day before, but he hadn’t left the room, except to go to the bathroom.

“You’re not fine. Sam open the door.” Dean paused to listen for an answer or reaction but there was only silence. “Don’t make me break it down.”

Dean wondered if Sam believed that he would. If Sam listened closely enough he would hear that it wasn’t an empty threat. Something moved and then Dean could hear Sam walking to the door and the lock clicked. Sam’s footsteps lead away again. Dean caught himself holding his breath and shook his head and filled his lungs before he opened the door slowly.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands in his lap. Dean had figured that he would be avoiding eye-contact but he was looking straight at him. Almost vigilant.

Dean took a step closer, but stopped when Sam tensed up and locked his fists in the fabric of the sweatpants.

“What the hell is scaring you?” Dean turned Sam’s desk chair and sat down across the room from him.

Sam shook his head, still keeping his eyes firmly on Dean. “Nothing. I just… It takes time.”

“I get it.” Dean put his elbows on his knees, placing his right hand over the bandage on his left. Sam could easily see it, but it shouldn’t end up turning the conversation. “It’s fair that you need time, but you have to let me help. You can’t stay in here any longer.”

“It’s not…” Sam swallowed and looked down at his own hands. Dean almost felt worse when Sam’s eyes wasn’t on him. It was the longest contact he’d had with him since he came back.

“It’s not what? Sam, talk to me.”

“It’s not the room. It’s not even the light; I’ve gotten used to that.” He looked at the table lamp on the nightstand and then back at Dean.

Dean was losing patience fast. Sam was always the talker, what the hell did they do to him that he couldn’t ask Dean to help with?

“Sammy…” Dean moved the chair a little closer but stopped as soon as Sam’s panicky eyes were back on him. “Okay, okay. But Sam, I’ve placed food outside your door four times a day for five days and you ate that. I’ve brought bandages and antiseptics for your wrists and painkillers for your shoulders and neck, and you accepted that. Now, tell me what you need me to do now.”

Sam bit his lip and looked at the white bandages on his wrists. His fingers fiddling slowly. Then he looked up. “I’m just not ready to be around people.”

Dean sat back against the backrest and felt a frown form on his forehead as he studied Sam. Hunched down, hands together in his lap, biting his lip and breathing controlled through his nose. Uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Small.

“Okay.” Dean tried with a slightly more uplifting voice. “We, can deal with that. I’m the only one here. You don’t have to spend time with me. Just come out to get your food… maybe to use the bathroom and in the daytime.”

Sam nodded, but Dean wasn’t sure that deal would hold. “Sam?”

After a silent moment Sam sighed and looked up at Dean with a determined nod. He pulled his legs up and pushed himself back against the headboard. Dean waited less than patiently for his brother to speak.

“Dean… I…” He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees. “You know, when I was there I lost all feeling in my arms?”

Dean nodded. He hadn’t thought about it, but of course one would lose sensation in the arms hanging like that. It didn’t seem like a serious side effect though.

“I learned how to move to push myself up on my toes, even when I couldn’t feel them anymore too.” Sam looked up at Dean for a second, who clearly showed that he wasn’t following. “Dean, I… My eyes have gotten used to light, noise doesn’t bother me anymore, but everything around me is… changing too much.”

Sam had been suspended in air for four days. The only things touching him was on parts of him being completely numb. He’d complained about the temperature the first day back. That the hallway was colder than his room. Dean had never noticed the difference. Of course he was hypersensitive to sensation just as light and sound.

“Okay, Sam. I get it. What is the first step? Should I check the thermostat in every room?”

Sam shook his head and the determined look from before was back. “Can you…?” He looked to the table across the room and Dean turned to see the clean bandages on it. Dean’s stomach sank. Sam had bandaged his own wounds because he couldn’t have anyone else touch him.

“Of course.” He grabbed everything he needed and pushed the chair over; this time only slowing down when Sam tensed.

Dean placed everything on the bed next to Sam and slowly offered Sam his right hand. Sam’s breathing sped up and his eyes widened.

“Hey.” Dean whispered, maybe to cut down on everything else effecting Sam. “Your pace. Your choice.”

Sam nodded with a small smile and slowly he unwrapped his one arm around his legs and reached it towards Dean. Dean kept his hand still and waited for Sam to put his down on it. A shaky gasp crossing Sam’s lips filled the room as their hands touched. Slowly Sam’s hand became heavier and soon Dean was holding all it’s weight.

“You good?”

“Yeah… Yes.”

Dean looked for confirmation in Sam’s eyes and was thankful to find that Sam seemed relieved too.

“Okay. You’re ready for this?”

Sam’s other hand tightened on his knee and he tensed up, but he nodded and forced another small smile before he rested his forehead on his knees and closed his eyes. It wouldn’t take long to change the bandage. The rope hadn’t been that deep in his skin and the bandages Dean had insisted on seeing had been clear, so Dean knew it wasn’t pain that forced Sam to concentrate for control.

The bandage came off easily, even with Dean using his left and tightly wrapped hand, and Sam didn’t move or speak through it. The red lines around the wrist and hand had faded a lot and didn’t seem to hurt too much.

“Sammy.” Dean didn’t move as he whispered. “We don’t need to wrap it again. I think air and some ointment would be best. Do you want to do that yourself?”

A deep inhale lifted the broad of Sam’s back and when he slowly let go of the air he shook his head.

“Okay. Let me look at the other hand and then I’ll go get it.”

Sam held on tight to Dean’s hand. “Okay.” He lifted his head and slowly uncurled his fingers from his knee.

Dean placed his left hand on top of Sam’s and watched his brother’s face drop. He pulled his hand back, scared that he’d moved too fast, but Sam grabbed his forearm and stared at the bandaged hand.

“What happened?”

Dean tried to pull his hand back. “I hurt myself getting you out, that’s all.”

Dean hated that he hadn’t wrapped his hand completely. Sam was looking at his fingertips peeking out at the end. He frowned when he only saw the thumb and two more.

“Sammy…” Dean pulled his arm again, but Sam held on tighter. “It’s nothing.”

They locked eyes and Dean realized that there was no fighting this; Sam was going to make sure he was fine, which he wouldn’t be able to. Dean settled for being quiet while Sam carefully folded the edge of the bandage back till he saw the tip of Dean’s little finger.

Sam froze and looked up. “Dean?”

“I needed a way in. It’s not important.”

“You said you killed them.”

Dean pulled his hand to himself and placed the bandage back. “I did. After.”

Confusion, sadness and anger filled Sam’s eyes and Dean saw the water glazing them over.

“Hey.” He grabbed Sam’s chin with his good hand and sat on the bed next to him. “It’s _not_ important.”

“But you… Dean…”

“Yeah. I know. You listen now.” He looked Sam deep in the eyes and waited for Sam to slightly nod. Dean carefully cupped Sam’s cheek with his bandaged hand and breathed a little slower when Sam leaned into it. “The only thing that’s important is that I can do this without either of us freaking out.”


End file.
